


A Study of Remorse

by OnTheSubject_of_the_Infinite



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Obligatory One-Shot AU, Surprise swear at the end for EMPHASIS, Thoughts in the aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 00:03:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheSubject_of_the_Infinite/pseuds/OnTheSubject_of_the_Infinite
Summary: "1.    wasted fantasies lying on the ground, graveyard of scattered dreamers who lost their wings under the stars. ... Thousands of Icaruses selling another body part. Lost souls would do anything to kiss the sky.2.    how do you fall apart? is it a dance? or. maybe just a lunatic tripping to find a sane mind."-midnight, dictionary poem. Author unknown.((Link to the poem at the end, hmu if you know who wrote it so I can give credit where it's due!))





	A Study of Remorse

Detective Yoo Youngjae had no business falling for the big-lipped gangster. He didn't. None whatsoever. And if he were to be asked, he'd very firmly tell the person that, in fact, he spent a great majority of the time hating the man. Jung Daehyun was like the energizer bunny and a food-centric black hole had a baby christened 'Annoying Sunshine,' who rather lived up to the name. Daehyun talked loud, and laughed loud, and ate loud, and _slept_ loud, and sang loud, and Youngjae hated it. His nerves couldn't handle it. What if this brazen criminal was just trying to cover something up? What if he got so close to Youngjae, teased and poked and prodded him, because he knew? What then?

Youngjae had no business admiring him. Daehyun took up the whole couch and consumed damn near everything in the loft. He showered for too long and used all the heat; he left three-fourths-finished cups of ice water condensating on the wood tables. He was too optimistic. Everything had a silver lining with Daehyun around, and Youngjae's pessimistic ( _realist_ , he insisted) nature was swept aside good-naturedly.

Daehyun had no right to be so enamoring. The brunet talked --all the time and to literally _anything_. He yelled at corners and coffee tables that stubbed his toes. He sighed at the fridge when a favorite snack ran out by his own doing. He cooed at vehicles when he fixed them, entreating that they ' _tell Daehyunnie what's wrong._ ' He talked to the tv and radio and gaming system when each took too long to load or went static. He talked to the small plants Bang Yongguk kept in the window. He talked to people's pets on the street. He talked to his friends, breathlessly and jokingly and excitedly and everything in between. --But, he especially talked to Youngjae, and the detective was baffled by it.

\--Baffled, and, secretly, in the depths of his rib cage, touched.

Youngjae had no right to be angry. The gorgeous man smiled like Youngjae dangled the stars and moon and sun and painted the sky whenever the detective agreed with him or shared something. Daehyun hung on the other men's shoulders and hid his face against them. He hugged everyone, tight and unexpected and warm. He let the younger ones steal his food and pretended not to notice. He caught Youngjae's hand when they had to run and didn't let go until they were hidden in the safety of the garage, laughing and gasping for air. He moved over on the couch whenever Youngjae asked, to the point where the detective simply had to gesture at the cushions and Daehyun would rearrange to make room. He oozed affection and amazement. --But, he especially appeared affectionate with Youngjae, and the detective was knocked breathless by it.

Youngjae had no business hating him. Daehyun helped people carry groceries across a busy street and asked them about recipes to make small talk. He cooked for the other five often as Kim Himchan let him. He taught Youngjae about cars when the heat outside was just right for tank tops and rolled-down jumpsuits. He did dishes and cleaned the kitchen almost obsessively. He was open and honest, and Youngjae's reserved deceit tasted bitter on his own tongue in comparison.

Detective Yoo Youngjae had no business ruining the puffy-eyed sweetheart. He didn't, whatsoever. But he did anyway, and anyone who asked would be shrugged off one way or another, a mumbled, half-appeasing answer given into his coffee. Jung Daehyun was courage and loyalty and so much heart outpouring from every seam. He whispered softly, and hummed softly, and read aloud softly, and _held_ softly, and watched softly, and Youngjae loved it. His conscience couldn't handle it. What if the reticent detective was just trying to cover something up --and from himself, at that? What if he stayed so far from Daehyun, rebuffed and fooled and fucked him over, because he _knew?_ What then?

What had Youngjae done, then?

**Author's Note:**

> https://i.pinimg.com/564x/22/5b/8a/225b8a8eed9b8154adc88d5fce40f406.jpg


End file.
